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<title>A rough return by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25710658">A rough return</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Of_Dresden/pseuds/ClaraCivry'>ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Luther Hargreeves Being an Asshole, Missing Scene, Number Five | The Boy Has Issues, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Number Five | The Boy-centric, Season/Series 02, The Umbrella Academy (TV) Season 2 Spoilers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:41:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,257</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25710658</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Of_Dresden/pseuds/ClaraCivry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in 2x02 (I havent seen anymore so no spoilers of anything after that) </p><p>Five is very tired, after a week trying to prevent the apocalypse and escape from people trying to kill him... </p><p>On top of all this, on top of having to watch the end of the world again. His brothers are angry at him. </p><p>And he's so tired. </p><p>Some Five thoughts, mild Luther bashing and slightly worried Diego.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Number Five | The Boy &amp; Diego Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy &amp; Luther Hargreeves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>553</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Numerous OTPS Infinite Fandoms</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A rough return</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Five was... Exhausted.</p><p>Physically and mentally.</p><p>Since he was thirteen years old and he made one (1) big mistake, his entire life had been dedicated to one thing, and one thing only: saving his family.</p><p>When he was trapped in that apocalyptic hellhole that was his home, through all those eternal days and nights, it was the notion of getting back to them that kept him going. The notion that if he got the math right, if he found out a way... He would be able to go back, maybe not the point when he left, but at least to some point in time in which they were still alive.</p><p>It wasn't easy. Many times he thought of giving up, letting himself die. That had been, in a way, why he.... found Dolores, he'd needed someone outside his head, someone to remind him that he was holding on for something, that he had people to go back for, that he had a responsibility, towards them, and the world. But mostly them.</p><p>And then he managed to get back, after so many years of loneliness, after doing unspeakable things and being someone's puppet, and if he managed... If he could stop this end of the world he would have saved them, and he would be able to finally breathe, to rest. His mistake would have been worth something and finally, fucking finally he wouldn't have to be alone anymore.</p><p>His return... was not like he expected. His siblings were surprised, but no one seemed specially happy to see him. Vanya, the one he trusted the most, the one whose words he'd held on to in those eternal days, had all but told him that he had invented the apocalypse and that he needed a therapist.</p><p>So, any sign of happiness or affection for him forgone, he decided to focus on the mission, because maybe, if he managed to save everyone and stay long enough maybe they would remember that they liked him, maybe they would be able to see past his mean words (his social skills had been lacking to begin with and being alone for decades hadn't helped, ok? He was doing his fucking best). But then he hadn't been able to save them, to stop it. Of course he hadn't. When had things gone right for him? </p><p>So he made another huge effort and transported himself and six other people in time, an ability he didn't control. And he hadn't known what bringing other people would mean to him, to anyone. He told them so. That it could be messy.</p><p>It certainly had been painful. He screamed and held his siblings' hands and again, did his fucking best, for them, so they wouldn't die.</p><p>He'd been a fool to think that this time the others would have been glad to see him, maybe worried about him, maybe missing him. (when had things gone right for him?)</p><p>So he ended in the very place where he had been escaping from, in the end of the world, about to see his family die. And of course, he would try to fix it, because he could go back...</p><p>And now.</p><p>He saw Diego, and he called him a sick son of a bitch. He saw Luther and he seemed angry at him.</p><p>Luther blamed him for the time scatter. Even though he had said it would get messy. Even though he had warned that he'd never taken other people with him. Even though he was known for his tenuous hold on his time travelling abilities (stranded in the future, deaged in their present). There could have been much worse ending.</p><p>Luther had retained his adult body. He'd been a white guy in Texas, he'd had a job, he'd met people. He had eaten. He had slept. For a mere year. And he was angry about it. He was angry and blamed Five for something he had no control over.</p><p>Five had been stranded in a place where he could not sleep in a bed, could not eat anything but bugs and the occasional can and in which he had no one to talk to. For decades. Long, harsh decades. And Luther was complaining about a year. Luther was angry at him for that year.</p><p>Five wanted to fucking cry.</p><p>Even though it hadn't been something that he did on purpose, he apologized. Even though he was hurt that the others thought he would have wanted to be separated, he apologized. And he told Luther that he understood, even though Luther was complaining about something that would have barely registered as bad for him.</p><p>Five was having a rough week. A rough life. He didn't remember when was the time he ate something solid - now there was a lot of food everywhere, but he never had time, because he needed to save the fucking world. Or maybe he had. His memory wasn't as good as it used to be. And he was so tired. </p><p>The only times when he'd slept where when he was passed out drunk or passed out after collapsing from pain at Jenkins' house. He barely remembered the sleeping, but the wound in his stomach still hurt. He probably reopened it when, once again, he was shot at, and nearly killed. (and yet it was Luther the one complaining, when he had people and a roof and people...).</p><p>Maybe it was his fault, Five thought. He'd been thinking that because he saved them they would be happy... But maybe they were right to be angry. Maybe he was useless, a burden that only ever made things worse. The only thing he'd been good at was killing people. That hurt too. He wanted to help people now, he wanted not to be alone for once.</p><p>So he sought out his family, and they... They didn't want to see him.</p><p>He closed his eyes. Shut them tight, trying to keep the tears at bay, trying not to let the overwhelming pain in his head eat him. He was with Diego now, in a car, and they were going to see dad. (just the thought... made him want to throw up. Perhaps it was a good thing that there was nothing but coffee in his stomach). So he closed his eyes, rubbed his temples.</p><p>Tried to forget Luther and Diego's mean words. Tried to focus on the mission ahead of them. Tried to forget about the loneliness.</p><p>"Five?"</p><p>(Diego didn't want to be worried about Five. He was always getting them in trouble and never seemed to show up when they needed him the most. He was arrogant and insulting and an idiot. But he was also his brother and he was rubbing his temples, pale as the moon, eyes a touch too bright. He'd been there when Five collapsed - Diego knew his brother would keep going even if he was hurt, or ill and dammit, he didn't want that. He was a bit worried, even though he'd wanted to strangle Five very many times recently) </p><p>"How much longer?" Five asked Diego, trying to focus on the task ahead. </p><p>(Five's eyes were a bit too bright and damn it did he not know how to look after himself?) </p><p>The day didn't end any better. </p><p>Pogo, who had been an ally, who didn't hate him yet attacked him, and then Diego... </p><p>Of course. </p><p>Because when had things gone right for him? </p><p>Five wanted to pass out again. </p><p>He was... exhausted. </p><p>And alone. </p><p>Why couldn't things go right for him for once? </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Let my boy Five rest a bittt</p><p>This were just some thoughts I got because I was very angry at Luther. In Xmen apocalypse, Nightcrawler was in lime a coma for a good chunk of the movie after transporting too many people. Your brother could have been dead, and you are an idiot to him?</p><p>Anyways, thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!</p><p>You know you want to comment ;)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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